Heatwave
by Bittersweet Symphony
Summary: TxP. "The horrid sun is draining away my energy... but i do remember the sex was good. it was always good."


Heat Wave

            Hi. TxP. New one. Basically, Pan is going to help Trunks with his summer camp idea for capsule corp. Well, I should say **possibly** TxP. =] R/R

            Disclaimer: Yadi Yadi Yada

………………………………………………..

Wiping my face with my T-shirt, I slowly uncrossed my legs and crossed them again, squirming at the feeling of the sweat causing my thighs to stick to each other. This was the hottest day of the year, it was 97 degrees, and in the apartment complex that I live in, the AC broke. This summer is supposed to be the hottest summer ever recorded in Japan and I wasn't even ready to face this weather war. I was living in my own pile of sweat. I suddenly began to feel sorry for my couch; the fabric was going to be severely damaged by the way I'm my body is precipitating.

            Most people who lived here left their apartment rooms for relief in the pool, water park, other friends' houses, just anything to mitigate the feeling of the sun scorching their skin. Me? Well, as you can tell I decided to tough out the sun, not because I'm such a trooper but because I'm in a quite antisocial stage. Ryan James ended our relationship one week ago.

            He was so attractive, and we started going out 3 months ago. If it weren't for this surprising severing of ties, this relationship would have lasted until infinity. He was my co-worker at the restaurant I work at [but he left due to other emotional obstructions, me] and when we first met, there was so much chemistry that it was inevitable that we would get together. He was so cute! And nice, and cute! Ah shit, I can't remember much about him; the horrid sun is draining away my energy. Sitting here, as I try to concentrate, I do remember that the sex was good. It was always good.

            There was one good thing about this overwhelming surge of heat – all my nosy neighbors are gone. Mrs. Liaison knew before my best friend, Bra, that I was going out with Ronald? Or Randy? Damn heat. Whatever, she's just an extremely bothersome lady. She was nice, but she was manipulative; she pretended to care only to gain information and talk about it to her fat and equally as meddlesome husband. And she loved talking about me. Well at least I'll gain some alone time where I can contemplate the meaning of life, paint my nails, and become fat and hate myself.

            _KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_

            I grimaced knowing oh-too-well who it was going to be, and I didn't want it to be them now, not when I'm down like this and to my shock, instead of it being Bra looking like a goddess, I was greeted by Trunks, who was staring at me, looking glamorous as usual in a black business suit and red tie.

            I had a thing for Trunks a long time ago, everyone knew it, and, well, I told him. I was 18, and it's a notorious fact that I'm not a shy person. We went out for a bit, fooled around, we never had sex, and then he sort of harshly dumped me for his secretary. Then, there were the cries about how I'm unattractive, the bouts of depression, cutting my hair to my ears and making it spiky, becoming oh-so-goth… That lasted for about 6 months. Now I'm completely over Trunks, and in fact we're still friends who talk, but I make sure I look my best or feel it. Whenever I see Trunks, something in me just makes me falter in confidence, like I'm not worthy. Sickening…

            And this was an example of me not looking my best. My long hair was stringy due to sweat, my white T-shirt had ketchup and mustard steins, I was wearing ratty boxers that he gave me, and my face was blotchy red and dripping with sweat.

            "Normal people call and say when they're coming over," I smartly said to him. I was a bit pissed that he showed up unannounced after three months of disregarding my calls as unimportant compared to his clients.

            Walking in, without an invite I may add, he countered, "Normal people don't stay in their houses to die of heat exhaustion."

            I shrugged, and closed the door. I was distinctly aware of the fact my clothes were thrown all over the house, but he didn't seem to mind. He just walked towards the fridge and started to snack on some yogurt. And he still wasn't sweating.

            "So, what are you doing here? Gosh, you never ever _ever_ call me anymore," I said, in a tone that was a bit too accusatory. Gosh, I don't want him thinking I'm obsessed again. –10 points from my self-worth meter.

            He shrugged, as if his being a bad friend was nothing horrid. "I've been busy. You know, Capsule Corp, being president." He took a deep breath and looked at me in the eye. "Capsule Corp has decided that we want to have a summer camp. Something new and exciting, just what we need to show that we still are the best. It's going to last for a month, June 2nd to June 29th. I've already rented land near Kyoto National Park and we have 10 camp counselors. Eleven is needed," he added, pointedly looking at me.

            I looked at Trunks for a split second before I started to laugh. Kids **hate** me. My first job was in a daycare with Bra and the boys stared adoringly at Bra and the girls attempted to emulate her. Those same little shits threw peanut butter at my face, back… I was abused and I refuse to ever have kids. Ever. "Trunks, seriously, you're kidding me. And even if the kids didn't hate me, I have a job! Wait, you wouldn't know that because you haven't talked to me in two months then show up at my doorstep only when you need a goddamned favor." I sounded harsher and more pathetic, but I couldn't help it. He should've called me.

            He looked at me with his ice-blue pleading eyes. "Pan, I'm not going lie and say that I've been the best friend, but you know that I value your friendship, and if you needed any help, I'd come at a heartbeat. This project is something that I thought up of on my own and I want to show my mom, dad, the world that I'm not just some playboy, but a genius. A damn good-looking one at that."

            I opened my mouth to say yes, but my resolved hardened. I will not falter, will not falter, will not falter. "Trunks… I have my job. I can help you look for someone, but really, I can't. And my job as a waitress pays damn well, I may add."

            "I'll double it."

            "Trunks."

            "Triple! Quadruple!"

            I opened the door and pointed outside. He sighed and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

            "Alright, Pan. But please call me if you change your mind. I know you will."

            "I doubt it," I replied as I closed the door. _You know, it would be pretty fun hanging out with Trunks again_, my mind reminded but I shook my head. I know myself and I know this would be a trip down to memory lane where I'd have this uprising of feelings that don't even belong. Besides, I do have a job. Sighing, I went back to stand in front of the refrigerator and at least have some solace from the heat.

……………………………………………………………………..

            "I don't understand what you're talking about, Mr. McGinnis. How can I be fired?"

            It was 12 am. I arrived to work, on time as usual I may add, and I come only to hear that I'm being replaced. What the hell?

            He sighed and clasped his hands. "Pan, you've been a wonderful addition to our restaurant, but I feel as if that you've been slacking off, you've been dilatory recently, customers are complaining about you, and, Pan, quite frankly, your attitude stinks. We do want to keep our customers and gain others," he rambled, not quite looking at me in the eye.

            I lifted my head higher so I could make eye contact and he just lifted his gaze to my forehead. Damn being 5'3". "I've never been late, I earn the highest amount in tips, and people always say that I make dining at this restaurant enjoyable. How can I deserve to be fired? I bet you guys don't even have a replacement, and you know how busy we get during summer."

            Mr. McGinnis cleared his throat and this voluptuous redhead appeared. "Meet Laina Parks. She's has been trained already and she's going to replace you. Pan, I'm sorry. It's your time to leave."

            I wanted to say so many things, actually no, I lie, I wanted to blast this man, who dared called himself my boss, into another dimension, limb by limb, and just have a huge catfight with Laina by ripping out her perfectly blonde hair. Gosh, in a perfect world where Vegeta was the Saiyan king, I could.

            But I was in my world. Where I get dumped and lose my job within one week. I smiled graciously. "Well, I guess I better get going. Have a nice business, _and Laina burns it down when she attempts to cook_," I quietly added under my breath.

            He dismissed me, and I started the solitary walk towards my apartment. As the sun beat down upon my neck, I began to meditate over all the events that have occurred to me so far, and they were horrible. If I didn't have a job, I won't be able to pay rent, and if I'm not able to pay rent, I have to give up my apartment and live with my mom and dad, and my dad will think I'm a failure and he'll lose all respect for me and think that his daughter is unintelligent whereas my mother will pester me to talk and be open to my feelings. Things do certainly not seem to be improving. _Trunks_, my mind reminded.

            _You could be camp counselor_, my mind reminded. _But I hate kids_, I replied back. _So? It's money, and he said he would quadruple your pay. At least do it until you find a job, it's only one month_. And the more I thought about it, the more logical it seemed and it was the perfect solution. I knew that I didn't have any choice in this matter and if I didn't want to live with my parents and their curfew, again, I'd have to accept. With new resolve, I picked up my phone and pressed 0.

            "Hello, this is Satan City operator, may I help you?"

            "Put me into Capsule Corporations. I need to speak with Mr. Briefs."

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I feel like this is starting off quite weird. But it'll get better, I promise.


End file.
